I have a sinus infection. Again. For the 400th time in my life. I've been consuming unhealthy amounts of vitamin C, Zinc, and peppermint tea for the last several days in an attempt to pummel my cold into submission with no avail. I have created a new drink concoction though involving powdered emergen-c drink mix, lemon juice, and honey. Alcohol might have been a nice addition, but then I remembered I don't drink. Breathing has become a hazardous activity. I won't be sleeping for a while. So, I have decided that I am going to do what I have tried to do at least a dozen times in the last month: Write a meaningful blogpost....................I've been meaning to write one of those meaningful blogposts for a while now. Perhaps something current and relevant? Something about gun control? Or maybe our country's mental health system and its desperate need for reform? Or then again, perhaps something more lighthearted such as the trials and tribulations of working retail in the an American Mall in the month of December, which I'm starting to view as being almost a rite of passage into the world of adulthood, not to mention a great stretching of my social skills. Maybe 2012 in review? (No wait- that would need to be a January post, gonna have to put that one on hold). I could also point out the fact that the world did not end on Friday and that the Mayans were no better than the rest of us at knowing when the world is going to stop spinning. Thing is that I don't really want to talk about any of those things, even though they would all make perfectly acceptable blogposts.
Its been a rough few months to be honest. There was a funeral somewhere in November when we lost my grandfather. Grief has this way of using you up and leaving scars, either on you or on the ones that you love. I discovered that watching people that I deeply care about go through searing loss carries its own unique brand of pain. Then there was a twenty page research paper and exams. There was a guy that didn't quite work out. There was stress, and work, and my whole family getting the flu and mono- and now on Christmas Eve Eve, I'm sitting in my messy chaotic apartment blowing my nose and blogging. Its been hard to feel festive. Its been hard to get into that Christmas Spirit that I normally love so much. And while I have still valiantly donned my over sized jingle bell earrings, and wished every customer at Barnes and Noble a cheery "Merry Christmas" between sneezes when given the opportunity, everything just sort of feels a little flat. A little off color. A little mundane.
When I was a little girl, someone (probably someone at church or a relative) asked me what I loved most about Christmas. Assuming a deeply spiritual and impressive posture, my 7ish self virtuously replied, "I love remembering about Jesus and celebrating His birthday!" It would have been quite a moment if my mother had not overheard me and ruined it by saying, "Come on Kaye, don't lie, what's really your favorite part of Christmas?" I blushed, and studied my shoes. "Welllllllllll I guess I really like the presents the best....." I muttered in reply. Do you remember when you were a kid and all the adults used to say stuff about Christmas being about more than presents? Do you remember never believing them? The Grinch was the one who told me the most actually, every year from my television set after he stole all the presents from the Whos only to discover that Christmas arrived anyway: "It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store? What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more." A lovely sentiment, but when have I ever had a Christmas that came without packages, boxes or bags? What is Christmas if not presents and candy canes and carols- all the trappings and trimmings of a festive and commercial holiday?
Don't get me wrong, I love absolutely everything about Christmas. If you've ever been to my house, you know that every single surface has some sort of decoration, and Santa Clause was always very, very good to us. But this year, maybe for the first time ever, I find that none of it is really doing it for me. I just can't conjure up the ethereal feeling of a carefree ecstatic Holiday, and I can almost guarantee that tomorrow night I will be more excited about a night of uninterrupted sleep and not having to get up for work than about anything that might be under my tree the next morning. Sooo is that it? Should I just resign myself to being a Scrooge this year and hope that maybe next year my life circumstances will line up a bit better with a little less stress, a little less sickness, a little less anxiety, so that I can once again FEEL all the jolly merriment of the season? I think not, no.
Because truthfully, in the midst of this holiday slump, my heart has had some truly joyful and truly beautiful moments, they just haven't come wrapped with a bow on top. I have had the chance to spend some time with some of my very best friends. I am unable to quantify what it meant to me to stand laughing in my kitchen with Tessa, who has known and loved me since the awkward age of twelve, while baking cookies from scratch in our pajamas and watching Moulin Rouge. I can't box up the moment when my friend Lizzie, who knows me so well, was so excited to give me my Christmas present that she couldn't stop smiling. I think I loved her excitement even more than the present. Can I ever add up what it meant to talk to Allie, an old friend from high school, and hear her tell me that she had decided to trust that Jesus was God and that she knew that He loved her? Did I ever receive a greater gift than having her ask me if I could make it to her Baptism? Watching my apartment overflow with my friends from RUF as they chomped down on my less than perfect lasagna and played endless rounds of killer UNO before the Hobbit premiere, collapsing on my couch after a long day of work and talking with my roommate Amanda about anything and everything for hours, sipping pumpkin Chai Tea while reading my Bible and talking to my Jesus, seeing my friend Devin for the first time in weeks and having her scream and hug me like she hadn't seen me in a century, chatting with Amy over mugs of apple cider, going and buying a bridesmaid dress with Stephanie for her wedding in May....
Right now I am sick and miserable, and my family has been sick too. This year there won't be quite as many packages under the tree, we won't be able to make it to visit relatives, and there will be a marked lack of baked goods. But you know, tomorrow I'm going to go home, probably in my pajamas with no makeup on. And the first thing to do will be to have a long talk with my mom. And pretty soon my brothers will be home. My Dad and I will go out to breakfast and discuss our mutual love of things like "Winter Spice Tea". I will paint my sisters nails and watch movies with my brother. They are all such small things. Little moments. But these are the people that fill my world with a sparkle and a joy that showers me with blessing all the year long. And I guess, maybe for the first time ever, I think I get it. The joy and the magic of Christmas, its not about all the stuff and its not about the decorations and its not about the songs and its not about the circumstances. Its about the people. Its always been about the people. And that sounds stupid, cause its kind of like "Well DUH!" But I think that just because I've always technically known it, doesn't mean that I have always appreciated it. Far too often I take for granted these relationships that color my life and give it meaning. And when the road of life gets a little bumpy, that's when the way that all these people have unconditionally loved me takes root in my heart and makes me shine.
So. I sit here sniffling and sneezing, admitting that this year has been kind of hard. And I'm kind of ready for a new one. But I also sit here overwhelmed with the knowledge of how much I have been given. The worth of my relationships with the people I love and who love me, the gift of a baby born two thousand years ago who grew up to become the Savior who sustains me and gets me through each and every day, these are the things that get me out of bed every morning no matter the time of year. And with that said, I hope that whoever you are, wherever you are, whether I know you or not, whether we have spoken recently or not for years, that this holiday you would remember who you are, who God is, and above all, the many blessings that you have been given. Merry Christmas, to one and all!
